From Love to Broomsticks
by goodlittlecatholicschoolgirl
Summary: (COMPLETE) Semi-sequel to What Draco Wants, Draco Gets. Draco has a change of heart, and Harry can love him this time. But will Draco revert back to his old ways? Rated R for 3rd chapter. HPDM! Please r&r!
1. Something Unfurled

A/N: Okay, first things first. The plotline is messed up, because it came from a parody that people hated, but wanted another chapter to! This story is good on it's own, but it's also the sequel to _What Draco Wants, Draco Gets_. Actually it really kinda helps to read that first, cause then things make more sense. Basically, Draco saw something that made him want to change his life, or his personality, for the better. But whatever you want to do. It's good for a random PWP too, if you don't care about the whole preset up. Just scroll down. And yes, I am well aware that Draco is too arrogant in that fic. I meant it that way. That's why he is better now. And I guess that's why I wrote this. Oh yeah, and there's slash. Harry (and implied Ron, but only 1 sentence worth) and Draco slash. It's late at night. And I'm bored. So it's interesting slash. Not all the way, and not sick, for you perverts out there. Oh, and now Draco is too NON-arrogant. Sorry. Have fun!  
  
Disclaimer: I am so sorry J.K. Rowling for manipulating your characters like this.  
  
Oh yeah, takes place however many months after WDWDG that you feel like putting in.

* * *

Draco woke up, took a quick shower, and brushed his hair. He styled it with some store brand hair gel, but not too much as to waste it. He slipped into his robes, straightening out his collar. While greeting Pansy and Blaise, the newest Slytherin couple, he grabbed his backpack that he had prepared the night before.  
  
He ambled to the Great Hall, hands in his pockets. He discussed the latest broomsticks with Crabbe and Goyle on the way.  
  
.....  
  
Draco looked over his shoulder, hearing a defiant slam of a door, followed by various cussing. He noticed Harry was the culprit, with red eyes and a scowl on his face. He was mumbling something under his breath.  
  
"It's finished, get over it. Come on, you _knew_ I was going out with Herm! We're still friends, right? Of course! Come on, don't do this to me!" Ron pleaded.  
  
Harry pretended not to notice as he stomped off, even more furious than before. Everyone else turned around, confused and bewildered, not knowing what to infer about the situation.  
  
But Draco knew. Ron and Harry had been on and off for months. Draco had tried to move on, giving Harry one last glance before he stormed into the cafeteria. Draco sighed, hoping that maybe_ this_ time, it was finally done.  
  
"So, you gonna get the Flash model?" Goyle asked.  
  
Draco's mind soon averted from love to broomsticks as they continued their morning walk.  
  
...Days later... Potions was easily the most boring class of the day. The Gryffindor bashing got old after repeated years of it. He ran a hand through his hair, rather uninterested in today's lesson about concoctions that make your teeth jiggle when you talk. After finishing his work, he began sketching the new Flash broom. About half way through the dull agony, Draco heard a clattering from behind. He whipped his head around to investigate.  
  
"Potter! Why must you disrupt my classroom? I don't think it is very fair to your other classmates when they are actually working." Snape spat with hidden glee, "10 points from Gryffindor!"  
  
But Harry didn't hear Snape, or at least he pretended not to. It was hard to pay attention when his bright green eyes were fixed on him. Draco raised an eyebrow, puzzled, with a "What?" look. Harry stared for a second, but then seemed to realize what he was doing. His cheeks flushed a slight pink. Yet, he calmly turned his head like nothing had happened. Draco thought nothing of it, and continued with his artistic work.  
  
....Several More Days Later...  
  
It was game day, Ravenclaw versus Slytherin. The serpentine table was hissing with gossip about the upcoming Quidditch match. Draco was relishing in the anticipation. He really did love Quidditch, and had begun to practice harder than ever before since a couple of months ago. He was pumped for the game, scarfing down his carb-filled breakfast.  
  
"Draco!" someone called off from the far left. He turned around but couldn't recognize the voice. It was on the tip of his tongue. All he could find, however, were those brilliant emerald eyes. He quickly switched back, shaking his head.  
  
_"I could've sworn I saw him smile...at me,"_ He thought. He chugged his water, _"No. Don't do this again. You're over that, it's time for the match, focus on anything but hi-**that**."_  
  
...Later that Day...  
  
He swerved past a royal blue object, just missing a long, 50-foot pole. Draco was hot on the trail for the elusive golden ball. He was nearly there when a bludger came out of nowhere, causing Draco to be knocked slightly off course. Draco barely hung onto his broom, his legs holding him upside down. He managed to keep his grip and pull himself upright. After a short chase, he grabbed the snitch and clinched the snake's victory.  
  
Draco felt...great. _He_ had done it. _He_ had worked for it. The crowd was cheering for him, for his team, for the team's win. It was an earned feeling.  
  
....  
  
His team gave him much praise for the catch; Slytherin hadn't won a game in awhile. Draco blushed, rather shy.  
  
"Come on, all you guys did great, too," he truthfully told, "I'll meet up with you guys later, I've gotta find my broom."  
  
The team left, with Draco looking around at the ground for his equipment.  
  
"Nice game you played there," said an impressed voice.  
  
Draco's eyes darted upward, surprised to see the thin Gryffindor smiling above him. He blinked, realizing,  
  
"Oh, thanks," he bit his lip, nervous.  
  
"I think you owe me a rematch, what kind of game was that in the beginning of the year," Harry smirked, arms crossed.  
  
Draco sneered, rolling his eyes.  
  
"That was awhile ago..." he muttered, walking away.  
  
Harry went over to him, kissing him gently on the cheek,  
  
"I'm so glad you've changed," he smiled.  
  
Draco's blue eyes lit up, stunned.  
  
"I thought you were going out with-"  
  
Harry put his hand over Draco's mouth, a flash of anger in his eyes.  
  
"No, that's," Harry took a breath, calming himself down. He put his arms down," That's done with."  
  
Draco rubbed the back of his neck, sorry for bringing up the sore topic. Harry moved away, sitting on the ground, his shoulders drooped. His milky white neck was exposed to the cool air. Draco sat down next to him, leaning over towards the small boy. He locked his lips with the abandoned soul.  
  
Harry's breath caught in his throat as he leaned back, leading him on. Draco crawled over him, their lips entwining fervently. Draco pressed Harry against the floor, his tongue brushing on his soft lips, begging for entry. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's neck, bringing him closer. Draco explored the Gryffindor's mouth with his tongue.  
  
He shuddered as Harry ran his hands down his body. His knees weakened and buckled, grinding his hips into his unexpectedly.  
  
Harry whimpered under Draco's force, he could have died of pleasure under his slender body.  
  
....  
  
The Ravenclaw team was off in the distance, their feet and brooms dragging along the floor, whining about how the referee made _all_ the wrong calls. Draco regretfully heard the raven's crowing and bitching, and sat up, straddling him, pressing his hips into his.  
  
Harry let out a loud moan from his pressure. Draco covered Harry's mouth to quiet him as they silently got up. Draco took his hand and led him to a dark part of the locker room.  
  
Draco looked to see if the team had passed as Harry kissing his neck. Draco tried his best to concentrate, but Harry's caressing touch was too much.  
  
"S-stop it," the blonde whispered to no avail.  
  
Harry flickered his tongue along his neck once more. Draco turned, pressing Harry **hard** against the wall, pinning his hands above his head. Harry had to stifle another moan.  
  
"Listen, if you don't stop, I'm gonna have you right now," Draco said sternly, but Harry didn't seem to have much of a problem.  
  
"And the Ravenclaws wouldn't _appreciate_ that very much, the blabbermouths," he added.  
  
Harry considered, and then nodded disappointedly.  
  
"Fine, we'll do it _your_ way," Harry gave in with a hidden grin.  
  
The royal blue ravens soon passed by as the two went unnoticed. Draco moved back out into the open space, finally picking up his broomstick.  
  
He gave Harry an old-fashioned Draco smirk, walking out of the locker room.  
  
"See you next match, Potter."

* * *

A/N: It's past midnight, that's the best ending I could think of. Thanks for viewing, should I make another chapter? Please r&r! 


	2. Small Suggestions

A/N: This is a transitional chapter. That's all bout I can say. If you haven't realized by now, this is slash. It gets...more interesting. Read on!  
  
Disclaimer: I am so sorry J.K. Rowling for doing this to your precious, madawesome characters.  
  
Takes place November, the year after.

* * *

Draco dried his hair, a small drop of water falling off his nose. He gazed into the mirror, flexing his muscles. He hoped that _he_ would approve. He stopped, biting his lip, mulling if he looked all right. He said aloud to no one,  
  
"I'm pretty, right?"  
  
He waited for his reflection to answer, but he only received an anxious, worried stare. Draco tried to shirk it off as he put on his outfit- a scarlet turtleneck with an old pair of jeans. He wore it for his Gryffindor. He smiled, his hands shaking as he threw on his robe. It was a Saturday afternoon and a Hogsmeade trip had been planned.  
  
But Draco wasn't going; rather, he had another thing designed for the day. He had been waiting for this ever since he had asked. Draco had accepted immediately. It would be their third date of the school year, and Draco couldn't be more elated that things were going well.  
  
He finally finished preparing with some last sprits of cologne. Draco sauntered down the common room stairs; only a couple first and second years remained. He went up to one of the end tables, looking around to see if anyone was watching. He pulled out something from the drawer, slipping it in his robe pocket. He then walked coolly out of the common room.  
  
.....  
  
Draco excitedly arrived in front of the fat lady's portrait.  
  
"Who are you?" she asked cynically, observing the green and silver patch on his robe.  
  
"Sanctae Amae," he said, ignoring her remark as he crawled through the passageway.  
  
He wasn't ready for the immediate drop as he landed hard on the common room floor.  
  
"You alright there?" softly asked a Gryffindor boy. Draco looked up and took the helping hand.  
  
"Thanks," the blonde responded, slightly out of breath. His green eyes sparkled with compassion and...was that love? Draco wasn't sure, but greeted him more properly with a kiss. Harry tensed, happy with the small surprise.  
  
"Are you sure no one will see?" Draco asked, nervous. He didn't want anyone to know; no one would understand. He would be ostracized among his house and disowned from his family if they got wind of what he was doing.  
  
Harry smiled, his voice filled with comfort,  
  
"Of course not."  
  
He pulled Draco into a deep kiss, and it was like he had read his mind, "No one will know,"  
  
He let out a breath of relief and was able to relax as he grinned lightly.  
  
"Let's go, before they get back," Harry spoke, thrilled at the risk.  
  
Draco confidently took his hand and they were off, together in the calm air of the castle. The blonde held onto him tightly, gently stroking his hand with his own. The talked idly about the latest gossip, the newest couples, who's wearing what, and...each other. The lion confided complete trust and reassurance in the serpent.  
  
The Slytherin was weary that it wouldn't-that they wouldn't work out, but he didn't' dare speak of it. But Harry could tell that he was uneasy. He rested his head on the taller boy's shoulder, whispering quietly,  
  
"I love you,"  
  
Draco nearly tripped over his own two feet, his heart racing. Harry peered up at him, hoping he hadn't been to forward.  
  
But his face showed surprise, not believing that someone could love _him,_ but he was thankful for it. He felt...powerful, whole, and, daresay, loved. His father never cared. His mother rarely spoke. Draco had no idea how to return this overwhelming emotion.  
  
He turned and embraced him, his tongue meeting with his lover's, eternally grateful. Harry had instilled his love, his heart, himself, in_ him_.  
  
....  
  
It was dark when they reached the roof of the castle. It was a crystal clear night, the stars twinkling above them; there was no one else in sight. They sat close to the edge, his raven black hair resting on the blonde. He traced his hand down the pale boy's chest lazily, watching it rise and fall steadily. Draco's breath was heavy, even though he tried to hide it, among other things. He rubbed his hand along Harry's side, cautiously.  
  
Harry smiled, knowing that the proud Slytherin was afraid. He slowly maneuvered his hand under Draco's shirt, feeling his soft skin.  
  
He shuddered from his touch, and before he realized, he was left in just his jeans. Harry's robe slid on to the floor; as he lay back, egging Draco on to do whatever he desired.  
  
"We're not doing anything wrong. We're just...being together," Harry explained with a grin, his voice so trusting and comforting. Draco leaned over him, apprehensive, his wary hand tracing over his small body. Harry pulled him closer, his arms around Draco's waist. He unbuttoned his shirt, and softly caressed his hands on Harry's chest. Harry's lips whispered lovingly,  
  
"Go on,"  
  
Harry adored Draco's innocent touch, his naïve essence. He wanted Draco to trust him, to believe in him. He kissed him longingly, breaking away much too soon. Draco eagerly responded, placing his lips on Harry's, his soft neck, and his pale chest. His touch got rougher as Harry continued to lead him on. Draco was more confident, his kisses turning into nibbles, and then light biting. Harry began to pant, his grin widening as he traced circles on his back. Draco lapped his tongue down his abdomen as Harry ran his hand through Draco's tangled blonde hair, grasping onto it, begging him to go further.  
  
Draco shakily pulled off Harry's pants, most of his skin exposed to the night air. Draco sat up, his cheeks flushed.  
  
"What's wrong?" Harry questioned, catching his breath.  
  
"I was, I was wondering if..." Draco trailed off nervously.  
  
Harry sat up as well, his arm resting on one of his bent knees.  
  
"Yes?" he asked.  
  
"I was wondering if we could...try something," Draco admitted, his eyes not quite meeting his.  
  
"Sure, there's nothing to be ashamed about," he said, curious as to what he was thinking.  
  
"Really?" he replied, his voice slightly shocked, but appreciative.  
  
"Of course," Harry replied, leaning over and giving him a comforting kissed.  
  
Draco sheepishly grinned as he pulled out a pair of metal handcuffs from the pocket of his robes.

* * *

A/N: Heh. More to come. Please r&r! 


	3. Abusing Privilages

A/N: Hm. Not much to say here. It's really self-explanatory. If you absolutely detest S&M. Sorry.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these poor, poor characters I'm playing with. J.K. Rowling does.

* * *

Harry woke up the next day groggily.  
  
"Where_ am_ I?" he panicked.  
  
He tried to push himself up and look at his surroundings but his arms buckled from under him. Pain shot through his body as he let out a grimacing yelp. He eventually came to realize he was in his own bed, the alarm clock flashing 12:30 pm. Everyone else in the dormitory was at lunch.  
  
He looked down at his arms, 

_"Why did it hurt?" _

and gasped. His wrists were a deep purple, a navy blue traced a perfect circle around his flesh.  
  
_"Skin should never be this color,"_ he thought, biting his lip.  
  
Slowly, the memories of last night flowed back to him in small waves. He eventually managed to get up, only to fall back down again, hitting the floor.  
  
"Fuck, what the hell...."  
  
Harry cautiously got to his feet, looking in the mirror. His neck was covered in red marks, various bruises on his body. It was the stone floor. Draco was soft, a gentle lover. He got overzealous, yes, but only sometimes. Draco loved him. He shook his head, whispering out loud,  
  
"I'll never do _that_ on a stone floor again."

.....Two Months Later...  
  
It was a brisk January Friday morning, and everyone was anxious for the weekend to begin.  
  
Harry was glad to see Hedwig, the only person-well, - listener he had. She hadn't come for food that morning; rather, she came bearing a message. Her amber eyes were pitiful, almost apologetic as he took the note. He read it, his smile fading.  
  
_Harry,  
I've got some new things we can try out. Screw your Quidditch practice, this is more important. You better be there. 10 o clock at the usual place.  
-Draco_  
  
Harry sighed. It had been like this often.  
  
_"He's just going through a phase. He's excited to do things with me, it's all out of love,"_ he reassured himself. Draco was everyone he always wanted: a friend, a lover, someone who had pride and could take care of himself.  
  
....  
  
"You're late," Draco spat, with a malicious grin.  
  
"I'm sorry, it's just, Hermione asked what I was-"  
  
"I told you not to associate yourself with that mudblood filth!"  
  
"She's not-"  
  
Draco slapped him hard across the face.  
  
"Harry," his whole appearance changed from cold to loving, "It's best for you," he took his hand, "and best for _us_." His voice was so trusting, so compassionate. Harry kept falling in love with him.  
  
_"He cares, he really does. We're gonna be together forever, I can tell,"_ Harry knew for sure. There was no doubt in his mind.  
  
"Y-yeah," he stuttered. Draco was right...he was always right. He placed his head on Draco's neck.  
  
"Thank you, love," Harry realized, grateful that Draco was there to guide his life.  
  
Draco looked pleased with himself.  
  
"Well, I have a surprise for you," he smirked.  
  
"Close your eyes and sit on the ground."  
  
Harry did what he was told, excited that Draco had planned something special for him, had been thinking of him. He put something soft over his eyes and muttered a silencing spell on the room. He then forcefully kissed the blinded boy, nearly choking him. Harry didn't care.  
  
_"Every action is done out of love,"_ he thought.  
  
Draco moved away, and all he could hear was the blonde's footsteps as he picked something up. What it was, he had no idea.  
  
Harry screamed for his life as the leather seared on his body. Draco smiled smugly, rather satisfied with Harry's reaction, running his hand along the handle of the whip. Harry's heart raced, panting frantically as he held back tears. Draco didn't like it when he cried.  
  
_"Every action is out of love,"_  
  
"You like?" Draco asked, happy with his new toy.  
  
There was no response. Draco hit him again, harder.  
  
"I **asked** you a question," he sternly said.  
  
Harry whimpered softly, trying his hardest not to break down on the spot.  
  
"Oh Harry," Draco cooed, leaning down to him.  
  
Harry could feel his breath on his chest; he was close right over him. Draco ran the back of his hand down his face.  
  
"I'm sorry, I just thought that...you'd like this," he sighed remorsefully. "I was just thinking of you and you always said do what you want and, and..." Draco's voice was weak and pleading.  
  
"No, no, it...it's fine. Really," Harry reassured, his heart skipping a beat.  
  
He didn't mean to make Draco upset. He didn't hear another word, either, as Draco stood up.  
  
It continued endlessly, until Draco got bored.  
  
"Thank you so much," the serpent said from the heart.  
  
He kissed him lovingly, "You don't know how much this means to me,"  
  
Harry took that moment to catch his breath, "N-no problem," he managed to say. He winced as Draco touched him. His body ached. His mind was screaming at him,  
  
_"No, what are you doing! He's torturing you; stop it. You're being stupid about this, wake up!!"  
_  
But his heart told him differently. His heart wouldn't stop. It ruled over him, logic meant nothing now.  
  
_"Every action is out of love,"_  
  
He let him kiss him. He let him get on top of him. He let him have his way with him.  
  
It hurt so badly as Draco forced himself into him. But Harry didn't care. Because it was love. And love hurts. As his bare, bloody back kept hitting the floor he could have fainted because of the pain, but he had to keep conscious, to keep loving him. To show his love for him.  
  
He was a moral person, he wanted to wait for the one he would marry. But in his mind, Draco would always be with him. So it made sense to let him take his virginity like this, so painfully. So agonizingly excruciating.  
  
...Middle of January...

The clock told the story of an early, sleepless morning. 2 am and Harry couldn't sleep. His pain wouldn't allow him. Every which way he turned the response was always an aching horror. Silent tears trailed down his bruised cheeks. He held his tongue, not to wake anyone up.

Hedwig had just returned from another midnight flight, and perched on Harry's bedside.

"Oh Hedwig," he whispered, "what am I doing..."

She returned a faint hoot with mournful, dull eyes.

"I, I know I love him. And he loves me, right? Of course...or he wouldn't do those things, no one could. How could anyone do...**that**...without caring? He just wanted to love me...in a different way. I know it. I can feel it. He just can't tell me, I don't know why. He loves me, right?"

Harry waited for her to answer.

She hooted quietly one last time as her amber eyes rolled back, her lifeless body hitting the floor.

Harry didn't sleep that night.

....February....

"Draco..." Harry whispered as he took of his hood, standing in front of the blonde.  
  
"You're on time. Finally," was his only response to him.  
  
"Yes, but before we-"  
  
"WHAT IS IT THIS TIME?" he bellowed; frustrated that he was even speaking.  
  
"It's just, people are starting to notice-"  
  
Draco's face went white; he stood up, a head taller than the Gryffindor. "Notice what."  
  
"T-that...my...uh," Harry was frightened.  
  
He lifted the sleeve to his robe to expose no longer clear, milky skin. It was scarred, tainted. His wrists were a permanent dark bluish brown, the bones themselves bruised. He winced; the cold air hurt the more recent wounds, made by a spiked whip. The marks were innumerable, everlasting reminders of Draco's love.  
  
"Oh," Draco said, uncaring. "That. Well, it'll heal soon. Just say your clumsy ass fell down the stairs or something. Lord knows they'll believe you."  
  
_"That was close...no one must know. He's mine and **mine **alone, no one can have him."_ The Slytherin's mind raced.  
  
Harry looked hurt, waiting for Draco's soothing voice to make the pain go away. But there was no saving grace this time. Harry was a slave once more to his own love for this boy, this trap he's set himself up in.  
  
Harry let him chain him. He let him whip him. He let him have his way with him.  
  
And Draco, well, Draco let him bleed.

* * *

A/N: Twisted, yes. One more chapter to go! 


	4. And I Find Myself Always Running Back To...

A/N: I think this will be the final installment in this sick, perverted series. Remind me never to parody something again, for it will be the death of me. This is wayyy OOC for everyone. Okay, so have fun with this! And hope you enjoy reading it as much as my muses enjoyed forcing me to write it!  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, J.K. Rowling does.

* * *

It was the night before Christmas vacation, Harry's seventh year. It had been a year...a year with him. And his body had definitely showed each and every night with him. He sat, rather, laid down on the ground in a position where it didn't hurt in front of a blazing fire. It used to be a comfort, sitting beside the fire. But not anymore, not in the new ways that he had introduced him to. The burn marks from months before reminded him of this.  
  
Christmas is a happy, well, was a happy holiday. But this time, he was leaving Hogwarts for the holidays. No, not to Hermione's or Ron's, but to Malfoy Manor. Draco didn't ask him to. Rather, he demanded that he showed up. His parents would be away for Christmas at his grandmother's house, so it would be open for their use.  
  
Harry knew it was wrong. He knew that every time he went down to him that he shouldn't be doing this. Every time he washed the pain screeched at him to stop. But he couldn't let go now. There were too many memories shared, too many kisses, too many **times** between them to give up. Besides...there was no one else to turn to.  
  
_"It was either Draco or..."_ Harry thought painfully. Life without Draco wasn't possible.  
  
Suicide wouldn't solve anything. He would be with his parents, yes, but to face them after what he had done? To tell them how he had fucked up his life and took the cowards' way out? That wasn't happening either.  
  
Harry cried silently, his tears flowing over his scarred skin.  
  
But he still heard faint crying.  
  
_"Shut up,"_ he thought to himself,_ "No one needs to listen to your pathetic whining,"_  
  
Even his thoughts were Draco's, not his own. He had been trained like a dog, but treated worse.  
  
The sobs got louder and louder, causing his head to pound.  
  
_"Shut up! You're worthless, you'll wake others,"_  
  
But it wouldn't stop, Harry cried out in the night,  
  
"SHUT UP NO ONE CARES!" he screamed, his voice hurtful and hurt.  
  
"I DIDN'T FUCKING ASK FOR YOUR OPINION, YOU DON'T OWN THE PLACE!" a voice responded, through his own unanswered cries for help.  
  
Harry's eyes widened, not realizing there was someone else.  
  
The voice was familiar, but lost. It pleaded angrily with him.  
  
"I didn't know that you couldn't even die in peace in your own common room."  
  
"I'm so sorry," Harry begged. He didn't want to get hurt, not by another person. "Please, don't hit me, I'm sorry, go..." he trailed as he looked up, seeing the red-haired boy on the couch in the far corner, a gun in hand.  
  
"Wh-what?" Harry asked as he sat up, moving closer to him. He let out a small shriek of pain, making Ron jump.  
  
"Sorry," Harry quickly apologized. He had gotten used to taking the blame for everything.  
  
Ron looked at him, not knowing what to say. He put down the gun rather nonchalantly, like life suddenly got interesting and he'd like to see a few more minutes of it. He bit back innumerable tears.  
  
"What are you doing?" Harry managed to ask, it was inevitable one would have said it. "I thought you were happy with your bitch," His words were cruel, spiteful. But he was immersed in guilt afterwards. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry...I didn't mean-"  
  
Ron seemed like he didn't care. "No...you're right. She's," he took a deep breath and the tears returned to him.  
  
Harry struggled but sat down next to him, crying in his own mourning. He put his arm around him, holding him softly.  
  
"It's alright, everything is okay," he whispered.  
  
His freckled cheeks were stained with his liquid sorrow, as he tried to calm himself as he spoke,  
  
"Her...." He took another breath, trying to steady his shaking hands. He spat it out all at once, tasting the bitter words in his mouth, "Hermione is pregnant, by a different guy. And she wants nothing to do with me ever again cause she doesn't need another fucking screw up in her life,"  
  
Harry had no idea what to say to this, but held him tighter, leaning his head on his. He softly stroked his bright red hair, kissing the top of his head gently. "It'll be alright...it's over now," he found himself saying.  
  
He felt his lips lightly press on his.  
  
"Ron-"  
  
He caught his breath, not knowing why he stopped him. Ron looked trapped, caught with nowhere to turn. He gazed into his remorseful eyes and they told the saddest story in the world,  
  
_"I shouldn't have left you, come back. I'm sorry, I just need you back or life isn't worth living,"  
_  
Harry kissed him passionately, a kiss withheld for so long, for too long between them. He cried to the taller boy, "Please take me back,"  
  
Ron wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, about to say something. But Harry howled in pain. He immediately backed off, confused and hurt.  
  
"No, it's not you, it's just," Harry tried to explain, but couldn't. His voice kept choking on morbid memories.  
  
He stood up and took off his long sleeved shirt, exposing the once fair, delicate flesh. Ron could only gasp.  
  
Harry knew what he was thinking,  
  
"Draco-"  
  
"HE did this to you?! What a lousy bloody fighter! I'll kick his ass for hexing you like that!" Ron exploded in whispers, trying not to wake the rest of the dormitory up.  
  
Harry shook his head, why was it so hard to confess what he's been doing? Because it was wrong all along, his mind reminded him.  
  
"He..._We_ have been going out...for awhile." He averted his gaze down at the floor. "I let-"  
  
Harry's words were broken off by his kiss, loving, tender, caring. He took such pains not to hurt him as he shed his pants. His touch was soothing, almost healing as it passed over a broken heart encircled by lies. It didn't hurt when his arms enfolded around him, because in his embrace there was something that wasn't ever there before. When Ron kissed him, the rest of the world didn't matter. The pain was gone. He couldn't believe it, but this feeling felt **good**. Why wasn't it hurting? Where was the sting? A voice rung in his head,  
  
_"Because Draco never loved you,"_  
  
Harry looked intensely in Ron's eyes and found what the blonde could never give, what he never gave. He didn't care it was cheating. He cheated when he was with Draco. Cheating is not being with the one you love but taking a replacement. As the two Gryffindors lay on the ground, Harry finally knew what love was. And he let love take him.  
  
.....  
  
Harry woke up the next morning, taking bliss in the first few seconds before the pain ebbed back into him, before he remembered how Draco had hurt him. But it didn't happen. He was sore, yes, but there were no nightmares that became reality. Harry turned to see what time it was, noticing a mess of red hair next to him. Harry beamed as he laid back down in the comfort of his arms.  
  
.....  
  
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing!?" boomed an intruder, startling the last two boys in the dormitory.  
  
Ron woke up groggily, "Is it time to shower already? I just took one last week,: he whined, half asleep, as he sat up and rubbed his eyes.  
  
Harry cursed under his breath, his heart pounding.  
  
_"No, not again. I'm not going back. No, this isn't happening,"_ he thought.  
  
His voice nervously choked out,  
  
"I'm not going."  
  
Draco glared down at the two,  
  
"You fucking whore," he spat, "Let's go."  
  
"I-I'm not going!" he said, more defiantly.  
  
"Pathetic son of a bitch," he muttered, moving towards Harry to drag him out. But Ron stepped in front of him.  
  
"He **said** he's not going," Ron defended, shoving Draco back.  
  
"Little weasel trying to stick up for this slut? How noble," the Slytherin drawled, waving the newly acquired gun in the air.  
  
The red-haired Gryffindor bit his lip, hating himself for leaving it so openly like that, but he didn't budge. He wasn't going to let the person he loved so much ever leave him. Not again.  
  
Draco poised the gun right over his heart, daring him to continue the bravery stunt.  
  
"Frium Finitium!" Harry cried, freezing Draco in his tracks, ice forming around his hands and feet.  
  
Ron took a step back, gratefully shocked. He gave Harry a thankful smile and took his hand. They were off in the castle running in their boxers. They didn't hear the girls they passed giggle and they didn't see Professor Snape's rather surprised reaction as they sped past him down the hall. But they were free together, and nothing else mattered in the world.  
  
And as if Ron had read his mind, he spoke, "The train leaves in a half an hour. We're leaving,"  
  
Harry could only return a frail smile of gratitude.  
  
"We should get to the 8th floor then, it's the Lost and Found. We can't board the train like this," Harry said after a few moments, realizing.  
  
Ron pulled him close kissing him on the head. "You're brilliant! No one will be the wiser."  
  
.....  
  
After acquiring two robes, they ran through the passageway taking them down to the 3rd floor. They held their breath as Crabbe and Goyle lumbered by, asking anyone if they've seen the two Gryffindors. Harry felt Ron's grip tighten. Even under the hoods of their cloaks, he knew the redhead's face was panic-stricken. Harry kissed him on the cheek,  
  
"Thank you," he whispered feebly.  
  
And Ron remembered the reason why he was doing this. He would never want to have been in any other place than with him right now. He smiled confidently as they continued to the Great Hall.  
  
With no time to spare, they quickly forced as much food as they could into their pockets for the train ride. Harry couldn't believe it; they were going to make it. He was going to be free. The skin would have eventually healed by itself, yes. But with Ron with him, his heart mended all the faster.

.....  
  
They waited in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express. Harry couldn't take his eyes off the school, waiting for _him_ to show up, for the dream to be over. There was still ten minutes left. Ron sat down next to him, finally able to breathe. The minutes ticked by but Harry still couldn't relax just yet.  
  
......  
  
As the train pulled away from the school, Harry smiled, disbelievingly, breaking down on Ron's shoulder. He felt him put his arm around him, his warm comforting face beaming,  
  
"We're going home."

* * *

A/N: Done! Yes, I know, a cheesy ending. But after all the crap Harry's been through, I thought he deserved to be happy. I might write the alternative ending if I'm so bothered by the sappiness. But hope you enjoyed, and please r&r! 


End file.
